


DNA: prologue

by hello_nurse



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabblesque, Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 00:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hello_nurse/pseuds/hello_nurse
Summary: In the span of a night, she loses and gains a family.





	DNA: prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Unsure of why I posted this out of order, but meh. Same premise as DNA: T'chaka didn't leave his niece to fend for herself and this is what happened afterwards.

Her face is blank, listless and her anger burns as deeply as the aching loss that hollows her out.

Wakanda, her father promised that he would being her here. And he did. Just not the way he wanted.

T’chaka can only look at his wife helplessly as the girl ignores his attempts at consoling her. This is his brother’s child, his brother’s only child and to save another man’s life, he has made her an orphan, but she’s not without family.

After growing up hearing stories, Erika couldn’t even enjoy the lush beauty and amazing technology of the world around her.

Ramonda meets her husband’s eyes and takes his hand, the weight of his grief and shame making his eyes close briefly. “What is your name?” she asks softly.

Maybe it’s because she speaks in her father’s tongue that she answers. “N’Jadaka,” she replies in kind, “daughter of Prince N’Jobu.”

Murdered by his own brother.

The words are unsaid, but they hang between the three of them like the sword of Damocles.

When T’chaka suddenly leaves, neither of them say anything, they continue taking each other in.

The queen, she’s tall, beautiful, regal, and Erika is a little kid with ripped jeans, scuffed shoes, and her father’s blood beneath her fingernails. The soft expression on her face, it’s not pity or sympathy. Erika is still a girl, she will be for some time, but she knows the face of a woman that survived, that’s overcome.

That’s why she begins to cry and she lets her estranged aunt hold her. This isn't fair, this isn't right, but Erika is used to that, her life has always been that.

This, though, this hurts.

“Oh, my child,” Ramonda murmurs, “what have we done?”

She’s older than Shuri but younger than T'challa and Ramonda can’t even fathom how to properly express her regret at what this child will have to endure. To lose the only family she’s ever known then to gain another and so much more within the span on a single night...

Ramonda is simply relieved that N’Jadaka is permitting her touch. She will not asks her to forgive T’chaka, he can do that himself and he will. Right now, all she does is hold her niece.

Few promises are made, but Ramonda tells her that this is her home and she will always be safe here. Erika has never been safe, never had the luxury of having it when something as harmless as playing on the corner or the court ended with crying and coffins, but she’s tired, she’s so tired.

“I am here,” Ramonda assures her, “sleep. Tomorrow, we rise.”

_We rise._

She likes that.


End file.
